Lost

I woke confused and disoriented not knowing where I might have been. Nothing was familiar to me; not the sounds that rang muddled through my ears, the smell of the heavy air, the sweltering heat, or the blurry sight of my surrounding as my eyes sluggishly relayed them to me. When I tried to move the world became a dizzying dance, a wave of color and shimmering light that pierced the veil of false darkness that surrounded me and let the sounds around me hammer in. It was deafening and blinding. In mere seconds with its intricate deliberate patterns, it had me sweating in my suit. I'd never felt worse a day in my life; not one that I could recall. "C'mon Dana, get it together." I tried to tell myself in warm dulcet tones but every sound I made just made things worse. I felt my eyes cross and my stomach churn as the world continued to spin, "Maybe I should just go back to sleep. -- Shhh. Shut Up, Dana!" I tried to whisper. The sound of my own voice hurt my head. I tried to shake it to clear the fog that had descended over me. Boy, was that the worst idea I had ever had to date. What was left of my world shattered and crumbled as it spun away out of control cattywampus on her axis and stars of piercing light stabbed into my eyes and spilt my head open spilling its useless contents. When did my voice become so thunderous? The cornucopia of swirling color and booming sounds that had attacked me defeated me. They blew me over like a leaf on the wind. I was all too happy when darkness descended upon me and my stomach stopped turning with my world and threatening to reveal its contents.

I woke again sometime later still dazed and confused with a plethora of questions rolling through my head and a headache the size of Jupiter and as heavy as Sol. I was immersed in dim grey darkness and a menagerie of sounds and smells. Where the dark was tranquil peaceful the sounds where a chorus of gongs and drums pounding against my brain. My head was still aching but at least my world wasn't spinning out of control and my stomach had stopped trying to share its contents with me.

I tried to sit up so I could get a good look around. Everything in me screamed that I needed to move but it was not an easy task. In addition to sluggish and foggy, I felt heavy all over; my legs didn't seem to want to move even though I tried to move them. I panicked and started flailing wildly. Every movement made my head hurt a zillion times more, but I couldn't not move. It took some doing, but I gained my feet and leaned against the sturdy -- was that stucco? -- wall. Stucco? Stucco? How did I know what stucco was and more importantly where was I that it existed?

I rubbed my eyes with a heavy hand. The air was dense. I felt its weight on my body as I moved. I tried to study the wall, perhaps it was an illusion. “What did I do last night?” I quietly asked myself. I didn't have an answer. I struggled to remember as I leaned against that ancient wall and the yellow sun beat down upon my face. “What was in that drink? C'mon Dana. You can do better.” I closed my eyes against the blazing light of the sun. The sun? “What in the tazars,” I breathed out loud. “Fist stucco and now the sun, Sol. The yellow sun.” I fought for breath and clarity. The last thing I remembered was having a drink with my commander in the galley. “This cannot be real.”

“What cannot be real?”

I screamed despite my angry head, and reach for a weapon that was not to be found as I spun toward my enemy. Before me stood a boy, a small boy in rags for clothes with no boots on his feet and short messy dark hair. He had dirt smeared on both of his cheeks, chin, and forehead. His deep brown eyes were wide but not with shock. They were full of curiosity and fear but he was bold and stood his ground. Perhaps he didn’t know that he was supposed to be afraid of me. “Where am I?”

“What do you mean where are you? You are in Mexico. Who are you? What are you?”

“No, that is not possible. It is not. This is a dream. You,” I pointed at the messy-headed little boy. “you cannot be. This, this, this.” I looked around and indicated everything with my hands. The word got stuck on my tongue just like the words from those ancient compact disc players from 20th century Earth’s would if you tried to play one. “NO! Computer end simulation.” Gingerly I touched my pounding head after groaning. The computer did not respond. “Computer.” Again there was no response.

“What is Computer?” A small voice questioned in my fading mind.